Abandon Inner Holiness

The day warms and a chorus
Of photons, alternating
Wave and point, forms around drapes

Drawn against the later heat
Of latter days of summer,
Making your whole small room

Its own internal halo,
Singing hosannas to sun
Outside and waiting for you.

Everything else can wait, too.
Any gauntlet you dread,
Any ordinary chores.

Don’t worry. They’ll come for you.
Don’t go to them nor meekly
Wait here, under your halo,

Not while there’s still something there
That’s not you, to do with you,
Or needing you, to see through.